I like to think of myself as a tough girl.

But when a fuzzy little demon with beady eyes bolted through our kitchen today, I did everything but jump up on a retro diner chair. The squealing? Check. The hiding behind my husband? Check. The sweating? Check.

By the way, why do I have a husband and two cats if it’s not to get rid of undesirable furry critters? The husband “tried” to catch it. The cats were nowhere to be found. Actually, I found the fattest feline taking a nap an hour later when the cleaning people cornered the thing in the foyer.

I’m pretty sure the mouse is a visitor from next door. I’m hoping it doesn’t find our place hospitable enough to stick around, and we got some traps and such today to try and thwart that possibility.

I think Juan was over there today — I’m pretty sure it was his van parked in the driveway. I’m sure he got a hell of a shock when he walked in there. I haven’t seen anyone else around there in a few days, but the yard is still trashed, and I’m guessing the rest of the house is, too.

I’m hoping he cleans it up quickly and sells the house. I certainly wouldn’t take a chance with renting after seeing what happened over there.

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